Deadly
by lunarock9
Summary: "What concerns me is the children. We now know the league is willing to employ young heroes to do their dirty work. That's a dark twist." A darker twist. The Light employs the young would-be heroes. Recovery of Dark!TeamAU. Rated T because superheroes and supervillains.
1. A Dark Twist

**So, quick author's note before this starts. I don't usually write these notes, but I also don't usually write multichap fics. I plan to follow the Team, both Light and Justice League, through season one, as they recover and learn about themselves. I can't ensure regular updates, but I promise that by next month, I will post the next chapter. I know most of where I want this fic to go, so there will definitely be an ending, however I cannot ensure that there will be a timely ending. (for anyone who read this last summer I am sorry, I am a HUGE FREAKIN' LIAR, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm trying ;-;)**

 **Warnings: abuse, language, and canon-typical violence**

 **...**

The arrow struck its target, clean and efficient. Thirty-four down, one to go. A cackle floated down the halls. And just like that, there was no target.

Renegade dropped down, from somewhere unknown, into the group- a unit that moved in shadow. Starting off toward the bioship, the some of the team's spirits lightened, their success evident. Tigress bumped shoulders with Renegade and Sting Ray. The sharp relief of their narrow win was dulled by the impending punishment they knew to expect when they got back. Though wordless, the exchange soothed her somewhat. She knew she could trust these two.

Once in the bioship, Mindwipe settled down to meditate, floating above the ground. Her red hair floated behind her, as though some invisible current had blown it back. Mindwipe. Artemis mused silently at the irony of that name. The Martian probably wouldn't have gone rogue- if not for the psychic blast delivered by Psimon to her psyche, in effect obliterating her mind and rewriting any sense of right and wrong the girl had. As refreshing as it was to have a female teammate... She did not finish that thought, choosing to banish it from her mind. One could never be too careful around psychics.

Speaking (or was it thinking?) of the Light's meticulous and twisted methods of manipulation, she still couldn't help but linger on Redshield's performance today. He had been part of their near loss today- questioning orders to take out Selena Gonzalez, AKA Tatsu Yamashiro, or as she was better known in the League of Shadows, Katana. Artemis crossed her arms. He had no clear sense of right or wrong, but she could tell he was beginning to question the policies the Light had. Stubborn Kryptonian moral ethics, she guessed. That would need to change.

They'd learn in time.

Or they'd escape.

Either way, the original three were doomed, she concluded, removing knifepoint from the bloody scratches on her calf. She'd better bandage it up now or it'd be useless to her later.

...

Renegade paused momentarily outside the door to his and Deathstroke's shared quarters. His hesitation was almost a plea for help. Kaldur and Artemis stopped, turning their heads. He felt the pull of their gazes at his back. After a breath, he turned the handle and entered.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Stepping forward silently, the assassin allowed himself a single calming breath. Metal glinted in the darkness, which he approached, knowing it to be a chair. Upon reaching the hulk of titanium and leather, Renegade sank into a kneeling position, one knee touching the ground, while the other remained up. As he knelt, he bowed his head. One hand braced himself on the ground, the other resting on his knee. Once this submissive position had been attained, he greeted the other man who sat in the chair.

"Master."

"Apprentice," Deathstroke greeted coolly.

Renegade was silent. Any word he said, any move he made, any thought he thought could and would be used against him.

"I see you have not learned your lesson from past encounters with the Shadows. We only wanted Katana dead. You were sloppy. Instead you had to destroy the entire base."

Renegade opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by a wave of his Master's hand.

"Do you realize what you have, in effect, done? You have tarnished The Light's reputation, likening us to barbaric terrorists!" Deathstroke's voice grew louder, harshening. The boy bit back a retort. Renegade bowed his head in shame.

"You were lucky," Deathstroke's voice lowered to a purr. Renegade tensed.

"We had another contract on hand. They wanted the entire base killed. We accepted, just in time. But Katana _got away_."

Renegade shrank into the shadow of the chair.

...

Sportsmaster leaned against the wall adjacent to the window. Tossing a golf bomb up and down with one hand, he greeted Tigress.

"Well, if it isn't the little tiger, finally back from the latest screwup."

Artemis kept cool, choosing to open her locker to stow her armor. This was her room, her territory. She kept the control here, she reminded herself.

"Cat got your tongue, Baby Girl? Or maybe it was your little boyfriend? You seemed awfully distracted..."

Gritting her teeth, she began the process of removing the straps and buckles of her suit.

"Or maybe you couldn't handle the beating I gave you last night? I told you to respect me. And you will, unless you want a repeat. So listen to me, Baby Girl."

The assassin ripped off her mask, sending her ebony locks askew.

"What do you want? The mission succeeded. The contract pulled through," Artemis snarled.

"The mission was to eliminate Katana. The contract was just barely fulfilled. It was too close- too close for The Light's tastes. You failed."

"I completed my part of the mission. I salvaged the rest of the mission. _I did not fail_ ," and each word was punctuated by her pointing finger.

"Oh? Then who did? Tell me, why did your _team_ fail then? Was it your _boyfriend_? Do I need a talk with Black Manta?"

Her heart stuttered, cold within her chest.

"Or maybe it was a different attachment. I saw you look at that girl, Artemis. I know you didn't kill her. And if I went back, I bet I could find her again, just to show you what happens to little girls who don't listen."

The pounding picked up again, more fervently before. She needed to divert him, she had to move the focus. She needed someone who was close enough he could be reasonably distracted by, but far enough that no lasting damage would be done.

"What, like you did with Jade? 'Cuz that worked so well."

"Don't talk to me about Cheshire." spat Lawrence angrily.

"What? Ashamed to face the truth? That you can't control your own daughters? That no matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to use us as easily as you did Mom?" Artemis snapped, brutal in word. She flung her mask to the side, determined to face him as his daughter, emboldened by mention of her sister.

Sportsmaster yanked her chin toward him, but more importantly to twist her neck in an awful way she was going to feel later.

"Don't talk to me that way. After all I've done for you, this is how you repay me? You are an ungrateful brat, Baby Girl. And if you want to keep your spot on this pathetic team, you'll do exactly what I say. You think you're so strong, but we both know who holds the power right now. Don't we, Baby Girl?"

Her jaw snapped shut, sealing her lips from further backtalk. But in her head...

"I was never your 'Baby Girl''. And I never will be."

...

Sting Ray stepped cautiously into his living quarters. Having already seen the illumination within, he knew what to expect. He knew he was treading dangerous waters.

"Kaldur'ahm," greeted Black Manta, who removed his mask.

Sting Ray did the same, letting out a breath. The man behind the mask was often easier to deal with than Black Manta.

"Father."

"We must discuss the failure of your mission."

Calvin Durham sighed, surveying his downcast son.

"You are a perfect soldier, one fit to lead. And yet... You performed inadequately, thus causing your team unsatisfactory behavior. How do you expect to maintain a position of power within the light if you continue this way? I am disappointed in you. This means punishment, Kaldur'ahm," he declared, preparing for the hard part, "You will go to Psimon's chamber at once."

Kaldur'ahm's shoulders gave the slightest sag, but he made no argument. He breathed, let the boiling frustration simmer down. Like water to magma, he let his anger cool and sink, volcanic rock thudding at the bottom of a stone-heavy heart.

"Yes, sir."

Ever the perfect soldier.

...

Artemis skulked her way out of the room, arms crossed and glare evident on her face. Kaldur waited patiently, standing to the side of the hallway. Approaching him, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, taking a moment to breathe deeply.

"Psimon?"

The Atlantean nodded. She flashed a tight-lipped smile, returning her gaze to pulverize the metallic flooring beneath their feet. Kaldur shifted towards her.

 _I'm sorry._

Sighing again, she moved her gaze upward, toward Deathstroke's door, which had remained closed throughout the almost silent conversation.

 _At least it's not as bad as..._

Kaldur looked at the same spot.

 _Renegade,_ He finished the message on his own.

A heavy thud reverberated in the hallway, and the two teens winced.

...

"You have failed me, apprentice!"

Renegade struggled to stand after his collision with the wall. He looked longingly at his padded suit, where it lay in a heap in the corner. Master had asked him to remove it, leaving him in his underwear and a thin shirt. By asked he meant forced; there was little difference anymore.

This did little to hide the plethora of bruises that splotched his pale skin all over. Neither did it hide the red trails left behind by blood.

"I know, Master, I'm-"

"Don't talk back to me, Renegade!"

His mask stayed, though, keeping him forever Renegade, the cold and ruthless assassin who sometimes had the misfortune to be working on a team. While he was distracted by his own bitter musings (and blood loss? He felt kinda woozy…) Deathstroke backhanded him again, and he stumbled, falling again. The same way he'd been falling for five years.

"Apprentice, stand."

Renegade complied, despite his battered body. Well. As close as he could, anyway. He thought maybe his ankle may have been sprained.

"Yes, Master."

"Face me," Deathstroke ordered.

"Do you know why I am doing this, Renegade?"

"No, sir."

"This is for you. It always has been. With my training you have grown to be a fine assassin, boy. But unless you follow my every order, you will not succeed. You will fall and I will not help you. For then you will be unworthy."

The orange and black clad boy was silent.

"Come here."

"Sir?"

Deathstroke removed his mask. Slade Wilson grabbed the boy by the hair, forcing his head back. Renegade stood still, but tension in his muscles remained. A piercing feeling in the side of his neck stole the remaining reason he'd had in him, and left him feeling woozy and blank. Slade smirked. When had his Master pulled back? He couldn't seem to remember. The thought drifted away, however, as a haze descended. It didn't matter. Nothing did.

...

Renegade left the room, a tremble in his steps. His teammates all raised their heads, stepping towards him with caution.

"What." he growled.

"Psimon," uttered Artemis, ignoring his belligerence. Renegade was known for his post-mentor moods.

Conner's eyes went wide- "M'gann is already there."

Kaldur's mouth set into a grim line.

"We must attend to our punishments."

...

Mindwipe shuddered. It always started out happy. It started out happy, and then the perfect little world of peace and quiet was shattered, never to be experienced again...

Or at least until she messed up again.

This knowledge of the inevitable, dream crushing moment that she'd lose everything was scary enough in real life.

At least she'd forget it, going in.

M'gann M'orrz wakes up when a voice rings in her head.

'M'gann, it is time to wake.'

Excited, she floats out of her room, in only her "pajamas."

"Uncle J'onn!" she exclaims gleefully, though there is no real need for them to- he can hear her thoughts, anyway.

"Come, M'gann. The team is waiting. We must go quickly, they need our help."

"The team?" the peppy Martian pauses, then remembering (as the story took form in her brain), "Hello, Megan! The team."

She flies quickly toward the living room, morphing into her super suit on the way. She barely hears the briefing, it's something boring and vague about Bialya, it's not that important (her brain doesn't think quickly enough to come up with fill-in details, but that's not the point of this hallucination anyway).

In other words- it's a simple mission, as usual. The team, new as they are, haven't been tasked with any challenging tasks yet. They're traveling to the specified coordinates to check out an energy disturbance when-

Her ship is screaming, spiraling in tight corkscrews downward. Just in time, she pulls up, only enough to slightly soften their landing. Zatanna screams, and she hears a faint echo: "Psimon says be not!" From that point on, she cannot feel the magician. M'gann can't even guess at her fate. It's like she ceased to exist, at least in her own mind.

"M'gann! It's Psimon!" warns Artemis. She's checking for a pulse, but Zatanna won't have one, her systems have already shut down, not recognizing there was a person they were meant to fuel.

Her resolve weakens for a moment, coping with the loss and storing it where she can't think about it, before she continues, trying harder than ever. It must end now. She needs to find him fast, before he-

"Psimon says... Hurt!"

It comes out of nowhere. It is too fast to stop, too fast even to see. She changes. One minute she is the happy-go-lucky Martian, the next she is a raging monster.

What once had been green has paled to a sickly white, which stretches over her new form uncomfortably. 'Her new form' is a long, thin creature. With slender curves replaced by jagged hinges, she tries to gasp as she realized what had happened.

'No! They- they can't see!'

Psimon's order has already taken control. A primal instinct has taken over.

She hurts.

She cannot see her teammates. She only senses their agony.

Kaldur's shoulder burns with a fire she does not know she has. He is slowly dying, she realizes, from the poison she has spit upon him.

Artemis shrieks as something long, slender, and incredibly sharp protrudes through her stomach. Probably a White Martian knee joint.

Wally is pinned against a wall, as a spike of pain pierces at his neck. A fingerclaw, she guesses, with horrified guilt.

Robert bears an incredible weight. He cannot breathe, nor can he move at all. Her foot may have been crushing him, she thinks.

Barbara screams- her mind is shattered, leaving only fragments of lucidity in the sensation of pain.

But the worst- the worst is Conner, who gapes at her with betrayal, she knows. He cannot move, she has paralyzed him, severing the connection between his mind and body, shutting off his physical control. She can hear his thoughts- why, why, why?

She knows he will never forgive her. {She knows she will never forgive herself.}

Psimon chuckles darkly behind her.

"Good girl."

And then...

The dream is gone, vanishing before she can even think to store it in her memory. The grief lingers, and she drowns in a pool of misery. No, the dream itself no longer matters, all she knows is the lingering emotion, which quickly becomes attached, associated to a different reason.

{She has failed The Light.}


	2. Call to Action

**Ahahaha. Apparently author's notes are going to be a regular thing now. Great. Well, I have finals next week (*screams for a thousand years*) but I promise to have a chapter up by the first of next month, if not sometime next week. WRITING IS HARD OKAY GUYS. R+R!**

...

Conner waited anxiously for M'gann to return from inside her worst fears. Nobody wanted to make a mistake- nobody wanted to obstruct the beauty of The Light.

...That was right, wasn't it? Of course it was, it must be. How could it not be, it was The Light: the savior for all mankind. It must be.

He paced.

He glared.

He groaned.

He _agonized_.

Every moment she was away was a moment in which one of his own worst nightmares came true. She would return, overcome with guilt- his guilt. It was his fault, for questioning The Light. It was his fault, and he couldn't even believe he had ever questioned the perfection of The Light's plan. Right? Oh, he was thinking too much over this. The Light were good. But curse this wretched waiting!

The door slid open.

He whipped around, gathering the distressed Martian in his arms.

She sobbed quietly into him.

Quietly, because if they were loud they'd receive another punishment. His eyes narrowed at the mere thought, and he found himself pulling her closer. They were not of this world, he knew, and in more ways than one. The newest, most untrained, and most powerful, they had to stick together to make it through training, so it was only natural they'd started dating after a while. Conner found himself unsure of that, too. It was strange to think of himself that way, but M'gann had suggested the name. She was sweet and sentimental in that way, didn't want him referring to himself as an 'it' just because they'd told him to. It was her sweetness that worried him, really. She would get them both killed sometime, and he couldn't see her suffer any more at the hands of the Light.

But- how could a good organization be so cruel? Sure, they'd messed up- Conner didn't need genome programming to know that.

{No, they'd messed up far too badly this time.}

But... Something seemed wrong. {No, nothing was wrong.}

How could they kill so many people?

{They only killed enemies of the light, the ones who tried to prevent the salvation of the human race.}

How could they cause so much torment?

{Torment? He'd only been receiving his rightfully deserved punishment...} His head was beginning to hurt. The contrast of thoughts was so strong he couldn't even recognize them as his.

[They are not of your own mind, Brother.]

Conner startled, shaking his head. That voice... His thoughts were swept away, in the next moment. Although he could no longer hear or remember that voice, he could now focus his thoughts to his own purpose.

This was enough. No matter what The Light's purpose for mankind, he couldn't see M'gann was the last time, he promised himself.

They were getting out.

...

Even through the hiss of the showers, Artemis could hear the hiccuping noise of M'gann's sobs. She pressed her forehead to the wall. She'd failed to serve The Light, she'd failed, she'd failed... The top of Kaldur's silvery blond head could be seen over the shower stalls. She needed to apologize to him, but she could do that later.

For now, she addressed the persistent nudge in the back of her mind. Something was wrong. She couldn't remember what was wrong but it definitely felt wrong. In fact, the wrongness of it shook her whole being.

A slight sting on her calf distracted her. Bending to examine the offending injury, her eyes caught on the shape of the cut, irritated by the soap she'd been using. It was a... Key? Artemis furrowed her eyebrows, trying to remember why she would have carved that into her skin. Carved wasn't an exaggeration- she'd really gone deep. She would have to talk to Kaldur later. {And apologize. For failing. For never being good enough for anything.}

But. A key. They'd messed up, sure, but a key was something else, something important. Something big must have happened as a result of their screw-up. She'd never had to _carve_ it into her skin before to remember. Artemis needed to find out what their real punishment had been.

Upon initiating the awkward conversation, Artemis apologized, though Kaldur argued valiantly to reassure her.

Back in his rooms, he held her to him, her chin resting on his shoulder. He traced a question mark on her back, and she knew he'd been able to pick up on her plight. Pulling away slightly so she could look at him, she noted his slightly quirked eyebrow and cocked head. She made her decision, leaning in and kissing him gently. With one hand cupping his face, her other traced letters on his back, messaging him her concerns. Specifically, she mentioned the key on her leg, a signal she'd made for herself when she knew something was about to go wrong.

Kaldur pulled away.

She felt the impending heat-rush to her face, nerves and tension all boiling to her flaming cheeks, which was almost completely unrelated to her previous concern and had more to do with the boy- no, man, she loved. They never really talked about their relationship but she knew him (maybe? She thought?) and he knew her (hopefully…) and in this business you just couldn't talk about these things, especially if you weren't the boss.

He tucked some stray black strands of hair behind her ear before angling his head toward the cameras mounted in the topmost corner.

She nodded, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

"I can't remember. I don't understand. We failed a mission, didn't we?"

He confirmed, further fueling her suspicions.

"There is one more thing we can check," he reminded her, gesturing to the clock.

They had a quarter of an hour until lunch (seeing as the mission had gone overnight, and everyone had skipped breakfast to shower after... She couldn't remember.), fifteen minutes until they could figure out what had happened. Until then, they waited together.

Artemis trudged to the lunch hall. Picking up a tray, she moved over to a table in the corner, settling it down at the usual place. One by one her teammates joined her, sitting with varying degrees of hesitancy. Silence hovered over the table, a cloud building for a downpour. M'gann's intermittent sniffles were the only noises to permeate it.

Conner slammed the tray down, seething.

"Conner, calm down," Renegade told him. He held his arms stiffly while spooning out his soup. Artemis was willing to bet that if she'd raised his sleeves, she'd see the angry red marks on his wrist he got from squirming during Psimon's sadistic little torture sessions. That clinched it.

Apparently Conner had figured it out, too, judging by his next words.

"How could you just sit there, knowing each other were being tortured by Psimon? How could you let each other suffer like this? How can you just sit there, doing _nothing_?"

"The rightful punishment of others does not concern us," stated Kaldur, empty eyed and stone faced. Her stomach plummeted. She knew it was probably what some would call a coping mechanism, but it hurt to see Kal go mechanical. She couldn't tell if it was trained into him or his own doing, either, which scared her more.

"What are you, a robot? Do you guys even have emotion?" The dark skinned teen flinched at the barb. She nudged him with her foot, but he wouldn't look at her.

"Conner, we could not have done anything as it were. Interference would have resulted in further punishment," explained Artemis, fighting back the urge to hit him.

"But why? Why punish others for your mistakes?"

No reply.

"That's it, I've had enough," announced Conner.

Artemis slammed her fist on the table, ready to screw logic and secrecy and tell him exactly what she thought. The clone fell silent.

"Conner, stand down. You will only cause more grief to M'gann," interjected Kaldur, smoothly, before she could ruin their lives.

"Why should I? I don't take orders from any of you! I'm sick of this place," the clone growled.

"Conner, please," argued M'gann, weakly. She didn't like staying, but she couldn't bring herself to leave.

"No! M'gann, they hurt you! They've controlled you. Listen to yourself- you can't say no to them, can you?"

The Martian bowed her head in shame.

"I just want to- to- Agh!" the clone struggled to find an action that would suitably encompass his anger, balling his fists.

Renegade looked up for the first time during the conversation. "Then _leave_."

Though the words were simply venom, apathetic to outcome, the advice itself was almost sound. The original three assassins each sat down separately, seeming to realize the clone was done. After some shuffling and glances between them (moreso between Kaldur and Artemis, since Renegade was occupied with scowling at his lunch), they were all continuing as they'd been previously, eating in silence. Meanwhile, Conner sat in a stupefied silence. The rush of anger had almost completely dissipated. He'd meant to stay angry, maybe start a fight. But the prospect of leaving...

Artemis, Kaldur, and Renegade stood. Shuffling out of the hall, Conner almost missed the keycard so innocently left behind.

Almost.


	3. Refusal of the Call

**Hello my fellows! I am sorry about irregular updating, I'm working on later pieces of the story and trying to make things consistent, but it's very hard. I'm trying my best. This chapter is a lot shorter, but I'll post another one by next week Wednesday to make up for it. Some of y'all mentioned formatting issues; I tried to fix it, but let me know if there are still problems. Don't forget to leave a review! :)**

...

Their next assignment seemed simple. Guard duty. The aliens looked at it as an opportunity. When they were assigned guard duty, that usually meant the sidekicks would show up. The sidekicks were supposed to be some sort of a covert team, but... Covert was hard for a high strung group of teens.

The original three knew it was meant to be punishment. Guard duty was reserved for the lowest of the henchmen, but it provided a break in which they didn't have to kill people. Most of the time.

They had been assigned to Santa Prisca, to oversee the exchange of goods (drugs) between Sportsmaster and Kobra. Oh yeah, and they were responsible for the betrayal that would take place directly afterward, and the attack and containment of Kobra.

Of course they knew the Junior Justice Leaguers were coming. Duh. Why do you think they had to go in the first place?

The two aliens had a different agenda, however- they needed to get word to the Justice League. If there was one way they could escape the Light, it was through the Justice League's help.

It was risky. Only slightly less of a risk than staying an assassin.

Redshield paced on the stacks of crates, surveying the area. The little pile provided a vantage point from which he could see the entire interior of the warehouse. Above, perched in the catwalks, Tigress waited for the inevitable arrival of the Junior Justice League. Meanwhile, Sting Ray patrolled the docks, preparing the escape vessel, while Mindwipe scanned the skies, in search of Sportsmaster, who would arrive by helicopter shortly. Renegade stalked the gangs in the jungle, monitoring the fight between Kobra and Bane's forces.

They had a plan in place. When Sportsmaster arrived, Mindwipe would help unload the cargo. Tigress would deal with the arrival of "Young Justice", and assist Redshield, who'd attack Kobra and the henchmen within the factory. In the forest, Renegade would set off explosive charges, timed so they'd blow right after the team left. Sting Ray would fight off Kobra's henchmen, clearing an exit for the others. They'd leave in the Manta Sub. Tigress, however, would leave with Sportsmaster, to ensure the safety of the cargo as they departed from Santa Prisca. She'd then be transported to an alternate location, where supposedly the Light was meeting up.

They knew it wouldn't work.

And it didn't.

Young Justice arrived before Sportsmaster, which wouldn't have been as big of a problem if it hadn't been for them taking Bane with them. With Bane, they now had access to the factory through all the secret entrances, passageways, and doors.

Their only piece of luck was that Renegade realized the fighting in the jungle had stopped, and that Bane was gone. He was able to alert the others, and they were soon all as prepared as possible for the arrival of both parties.

Mindwipe was doing an aerial scan, hoping to spot either Sportsmaster or Young Justice. Sting Ray had the escape vessels ready, and units positioned at the entrance they'd need to clear. He himself went to explain the situation to Kobra while Redshield and Artemis searched for them.

 _Renegade, I found the passage. It's in the cliff side across from the factory. An old, abandoned mineshaft, but it's rigged with explosives_ , Mindwipe told him.

 _On it_ , he replied.

Artemis notched three arrows, waiting at the exit for them to come through.

Renegade crept through the passage. Listening for the noise their feet would undoubtedly make, he pondered the silence he encountered. Was this the wrong way?

The unmistakable sound of a door sliding open disproved his doubts.

Now running along the tunnel, he barely made it in time to throw a disc toward the control panel, which stopped the door from shutting completely. Opening the door easily, he found himself facing a chaotic battle.

Artemis was gone, which meant that Sportsmaster had arrived. That meant that Mindwipe would be similarly occupied.

So, he had Redshield and Sting Ray to work with. He smirked.

Fine then.

Kid Flash was fast, but he couldn't be everywhere at once. And if something happened to be in his way? That's why his suit was padded. A few marbles placed conveniently next to some crates solved this problem quickly.

While Kid Flash recovered from his collision, Speedy was forced to cover him, shooting arrow upon exploding arrow at Sting Ray, who deflected all of them and was approaching quickly.

Zatanna muttered spells from atop some other crates, occupying Redshield, who was busy endangering the structural integrity of the building.

That accounted for three of the group, but where was-? Well now it was official- they were screwed.

He couldn't dwell on that. Zatanna's spell sent several crates barreling toward him -an opportunity. Renegade propelled himself upward, landing on the crates and launching himself at the enchantress. The ebony girl fell, knocked out from the collision course set from his foot.

His eyes caught on a window on the second floor. As Kid Flash raced toward him to pick up Zatanna, the nimble apprentice used the speedster as leverage, pushing off to reach the catwalk.

Just as he reached for the handle, it opened on its own. Batgirl sent a kick flying for his face, which he dodged, launching an attack of his own. A few kicks, jabs, and good old underhanded tactics had them evenly matched until he finally had her pinned against the wall. He knew there was a prick in his arm somewhere, felt her do it, and grinned anyway. Cackled, even.

An arrow almost caught him off guard, but he stopped it in mid air, catching it deftly. Just as he thought he was in the clear, it exploded.

As his vision cleared, he found himself in a pile of rubble.

"That was dumber than usual," remarked Kid Flash.

"Tranq dart," was all that Batgirl revealed.

Although he could still feel the needle of the spindly little object, he didn't remove it, basking in the aftereffects of freedom. What the heroes didn't understand is that he hated his job more than they did, so every outcome was a win. If he lost, people were probably being saved because of it. If he won, Slade wouldn't try to _kill_ him when he got home. A hoarse whoop escaped his lips as he watched Zatanna collapse from a sudden mental onslaught. The alien plan (despite the creators' lack of experience or finesse) was working almost perfectly. Wayne would be able to get them out in a week.

While Flash Boy remained preoccupied in his rescue of Zatanna, Batgirl glanced back at the noise, and was rather irritated at his grin.

"Well?" he prompted.

The last thing he remembered was the thought of what a shame it was that he was only happy when half lucid. Then he felt the familiar click of the BatCuffs. Man, Slade was going to _kill_ him. _Not that he'd actually ever be caught._

...

The Light were forthcoming during the meeting, pleased with their success, despite its seemingly small impact. They willingly (proudly, arrogantly) showed her their plan, their connections and resources, their supplies.

Artemis' eyes widened beneath the orange and black striped mask. She looked at the links between their missions, and a sick feeling churned her stomach. So many connections, so many villains all working for The Light- and a mole, working on the superhero team... There was no hope. _No way out._

If they escaped, they'd bring the wrath of The Light down upon themselves- upon everyone they met, everyone who ever helped them. And even then...

 _They brought this down on the world._ There'd be no place to run, no place to hide, no place to flee the evil they'd created, in a world they were helping to destroy. Alien dreams of help from the Justice League would be futile once The Light's full plan happened. There was no forgiveness for an evil like this, their crime against humanity.

There was no true escape.

They were _doomed_.


	4. December 16, 1991

_Mission Report 8.3.20:08_

 _Target: Amazo_

 _Background Info: Created by Professor Ivo, can access the powers of beings it sees._

 _Mission Objective: Guard disassembled parts of superpowered robot Amazo on their way to disposal._

 _Objective was achieved, despite the hindrance of the MONQUI (Mobile Optimal Neural Quotient Infiltrators) attack. No sign of other villains being involved._

 _Ivo made Amazo's priority to protect him and therefore failed when Amazo had to defend him. Amazo was disassembled and delivered to the correct location for disposal._

 _Damages: Gotham Academy's lockers, gym, and science labs._

 _Justification: You sent teens to deal with a superpowered robot. What were you expecting, Bats?_

 **Comments: Standard report, except for the Justifications. Team's damages will be dealt with regardless, but know that I expect full report by tomorrow.**

Barbara smirked at her mentor's comment, but didn't deign to reply. She'd get an earful on patrol tonight, but whatever. Closing the holographic window, she looked down from her perch, catching up on the conversation she'd missed.

"Typical. First day of college, and what do you do with your weekend, Roy? 'Ya get your butt kicked by an android."

"Shut up, Wally," Roy grumbled, icing his bruised jaw, before gingerly probing it.

"For an android, he certainly packs a punch," groaned Zee, hand on her ribs, which had been fractured during the fight. Wally patted her arm sympathetically.

Barb just laughed at them from the rafters, nursing a measly split lip.

...

 _Mission Report 8.8.21:53_

 _Mission Objective: Protect Dr. Serling Roquette from the League of Shadows while she counteracts The Fog._

 _Background info: Previously rescued from captivity by the League of Shadows by Speedy, Dr. Roquette created the fog, a swarm of microscopic robots that can go through any material, collecting data._

 _Opposition encountered: Cheshire, Hook, Spider, Professor Ojo_

 _Results: objective achieved. Cheshire was distracted by Speedy while Hook and Fang were dealt with separately and imprisoned. Cheshire escaped. The doctor was guarded-_

Zatanna paused for a moment as she typed up the mission report. Successful? She felt like she could probably use that word to describe their mission. Oh, there had been that one close call near the end, though... Well, she thought, the doctor _was_ still alive.

 _successfully,_ she typed, and saved the file. She glanced up to hear the end of Barbara's tale.

"I can't believe I had to give you mouth-to-mouth. I'll be using breath mints for the rest of my life!" Barbara fanned herself, exaggerating her story at Wally's expense.

Roy snorted. "You got that right."

"Hey, at least I didn't get my butt kicked by a pretty assassin who totally has the hots for me," Wally sassed from the couch. Zatanna whacked him playfully, wrinkling her nose at his stuck out tongue.

"Oh, leave him alone," she sighed.

"Yeah. Shut up, Wally," Roy growled, rubbing his lips as his cheeks began to take on a pinkish tinge.

"Besides, it worked."

"Only because she was too distracted by your..."

"Manly physique," Zatanna cut in, stopping Wally from continuing down what was surely a dank, disturbing road that reeked of meme or innuendo.

"Ooo, Zee! Does Wally have some competition?" Barbara whistled.

"What? I- No! We're not even-Besides, you were the one to give him mouth to mouth!"

Roy tried to stifle his laughter, but had to duck anyway to avoid the pillow thrown from the couch by an affronted Batgirl.

...

~Dichotomy- a division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different: a rigid dichotomy between science and mysticism~

"I'm telling you, magic is not real."

"Then, Wally, would you care to explain this?"

The speedster looked around at the snowy terrain, shivering slightly in the cold. He paused for a moment, processing the landscape as he formulated a response.

"Obviously we're in a pocket dimension. Haven't you ever heard of string theory?"

"Mmhm. You keep telling yourself that, Walls," the ebony told him, stomping away.

"Zee!" The redhead chased her frantically.

Barb sighed.

"Those two are hopeless. Honestly and truly hopeless."

Roy nodded in agreement as they disappeared suddenly into thin air.

"What just-?"

Zatanna's touch weighed heavily on his slumping shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, sadness seeping through her quiet words. She didn't know what to say, what to do.

The speedster swallowed his grief, clutching the locket tightly. After the first few moments of blindness he'd suffered through after removing the Helmet of Fate, he decided just closing his eyes would be easier anyway. He didn't want to see the outcome of that fateful battle.

"Zee... His locket."

"Where?"

He held it out, not sure where she was, but knowing she would take it.

"Can you...?"

"I've got it, Walls," a gruff voice to his left assured him. Roy's hand fell heavy on Wally's shoulder. Roy had been in the gig longer, knew what it was like when this kind of thing happened.

"Is that...?" Barbara's voice leaked curiosity.

"Yeah," he confirmed, hugging the Helmet to himself. He could feel the absurdly warm metal pressing against his chest. Arms encircled him, and he could feel the dripping of his eyes. Normally he'd be mortified. He must look so weak now... Wally tried for humor.

"Well, now that my date with Fate is over, I guess it's time to go back to the cave."

He could feel Zatanna's audible sigh. She held tighter, and he thought 'okay, what the heck' and started bawling. Wally buried his face in her shoulder, and Zee held tight because what could she do, what could she say? There are no words for something like this, nothing really encompasses the reverence, the grief, the uncertainty of the future.

A hero had fallen.

Kent Nelson had died.

...

"Team, report."

"We're here, Batman," announced Roy, in gear.

Wally slid to a halt next to Batgirl, cowl undone but otherwise dressed in costume. Meanwhile, Zatanna floated down from where she had been practicing her levitation spell. Batman stood, arms crossed and scowling next to an unusually stoic Martian Manhunter. Once each teen had taken a place in the circle, their brooding supervisor began.

"During The Team's mission in Santa Prisca, Zatanna was attacked by M'gann M'orrz. M'orrz is one of Martian Manhunter's nieces, and went missing from Mars six months ago. The Light calls her Mindwipe. After M'orrz's attack, Zatanna was overwhelmed and incapacitated," recounted Batman, motioning toward the magician.

Martian Manhunter spoke next, voice rolling low and concerned. "She implanted a coded message in your head, Zatanna. The message revealed that the secret villain society we have suspected for the recent attacks is The Light, and their team of young mercenaries have requested our help. According to M'orrz, they've been held against their will, and are coerced into working for The Light." Batman gave an almost inaudible sigh, at which Batgirl frowned. Her mentor was suspicious, probably, though the sigh was tinged with something closer to regret.

Martian Manhunter continued. "The message suggested some sort of mental interference was at play due to the... Static, you would call it. Her mind was unfamiliar, tainted by an outside force. The message itself was even more so."

"Are you kidding?" Roy exclaimed, incredulously, "Are you actually joking? There's no way this isn't a trap!"

Batman picked right back up. "The only specific pieces of information given were the coordinates of their ship. Aquaman scoped the location out already, and the intel was sound. We've assessed the risks and decided to send everyone in," Batman paused to Batglare Speedy into silence again, "We will extract them. If their story is true and they prove themselves, we'll work out a compromise for them. If not, they get arrested with the rest of their organization. Either way, we're sending you in to retrieve as much data as possible in the event that we are not successful in capturing the ship."

"Uh, not that I'm complaining or anything- honestly- but... Why so paranoid?" Wally ventured.

"There is evidence that a large force of villains are part of the Light. They may call backup, in which case you'll withdraw, and everyone will rendezvous at the surface. Unfortunately, we only have one try to do this. If it goes wrong and the other team are telling the truth, they won't ever have another chance after."

The Team shot looks around each other, each gauging the reactions of others. After some initial shock, doubt, and concern, they began to strategize and plan amongst themselves. With the weight of the other team's lives hanging in the balance, they couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

They got to work.

...

 **R &R! I'm trying to finish the whole story before I post chapters, but writing is hard.**


	5. Rolling in the Deep

**This is really freakin' long, guys.**

...

The Light's underwater base was a massive submarine, inspired by Black Manta's person Manta-sub, a personal submarine slightly larger than a house. Being an underwater base for a worldwide organization of villains, however, meant that The Light's own base, dubbed 'The Mothership' had to be much larger- so large, in fact, that it was roughly the size of a small island.

Despite its title as 'The Mothership,' it never moved in its full state. Instead, the Mothership split into thirty-four different vessels, each manned by its own crew. This made for more maneuverability, stealth, and scouting abilities, as smaller subs leave smaller traces. To promote unity, each section of the ship had at least one representative of each major villain in its crew.

The entire base was never fully assembled at any time- at least one part was always scouting, ensuring the safety of all the other parts. The scout ship was probably what had triggered the alarm, thought Kaldur'ahm, as he packed whatever he could into the most convenient bag he could find.

With the klaxons already blaring in every separate part of the Mothership, he'd have to hurry and regroup with Artemis and Wren or they might not all make it out. If only he and Artemis had had time for an escape plan...

Kaldur sighed, dropping the last change of civilian clothes he'd found into his duffel and massaging his temples. Artemis had stopped talking to him. Neither of them had come up with a plan to deal with the possibility of an attack on the ship. Did this mean what he thought it meant?

The Atlantean tried to shake the thought out, but it persisted. The original three had all agreed, that if ever an opportunity presented itself, they'd escape together. This was their opportunity... _Wasn't it?_

Clearly, The League's attack had already begun. He needed to find Artemis, soon. They didn't have a plan, and...

It was more than that: he missed her company and sharp wit, but right now, he didn't think she had the capability to provide either in her. She'd been despondent, seemingly depressed ever since their mission in Santa Prisca.

Kaldur worried.

He worried, because he feared she was having doubts. About leaving.

Because he was, too.

From the moment Kaldur'ahm was born, it was clear to all the other Atlanteans exactly what his parentage was. His dark skin, light hair, and breathing tank gave it all away. The breathing tank had marked him as a human-Atlantean crossbreed, as the lungs and lesser gills of a crossbreed were known to be erratic in early stages of development. His skin and hair, however, marked him as more specifically as a race to avoid, especially because of the negative connotations they associated with his skin color, or so he'd gathered. Black Manta and his men were the only known African-Americans at the time to visit Atlantis, and his visits were exceedingly unwelcome once he had demonstrated his destructive nature.

His own mother had suffered horrors at the hands of his father, so that at the age of five, _after nearly being brutally choked to death in an Atlantean hospital,_ he had come to question the circumstances of his own birth.

Kaldur'ahm had never even met his father until he'd graduated the elementary military school all Atlantean youths were required to attend, when Black Manta had shown up to the graduation to see his son's accomplishments. From that point on, he became a regular fixture in Kaldur's life, watching over his son's schoolwork and physical training as well as terrorizing his poor mother. With Black Manta's presence came an increasingly negative reception toward Kaldur. He no longer received the passive hatred and occasional scuffle, but was scorned and struck every which way, every day. The dark skinned boy had struggled to keep his rising anger in check, for a single display of his anger might utterly destroy him- Black Manta's cruel rage being well known to Atlantis. He'd started shutting down instead. A stone wall could not react to injustices, it just was.

His father told him stories of similar prejudices on land, and his struggle to gain respect and freedom in both worlds. Kaldur understood this- being hated- but wondered if it were not possible to avoid the killings and power grabbings in order to attain freedom.

He longed for freedom- for the freedom to be whoever he wanted to be. But a freedom like that… He was not sure if it existed, even for people who weren't like him. Down below, working for The Light, he had something close to friends, someone nearly a girlfriend, somewhere almost like a home. Maybe giving up his freedom was what it took, to have that.

Maybe freedom itself was the lie.

And yet... The Light was no home.

Home. His heart ached for a different home, one that wasn't all metal walls and mercenaries, one with vivid coral walls, a sandy floor, and real love. One with a woman who had hair a dusky gold, brighter and more precious than the sunken treasure he used to dive for on the weekends, and tanned skin from working so closely to the vents and volcanic rock that warmed Atlantis. And when he thought of Home, he thought of just how disappointed that radiant woman would be, if she knew what he did for her tormentor.

Maybe it was too late already. But Kaldur'ahm knew he needed to dedicate himself, knew if his heart wasn't in it, they'd never make it (not that their chances weren't already dismal at best). He had to commit. They were going to escape The Light.

With that decided, Sting Ray zipped up the small bag with clothes, money, and a weapon he'd bought for himself at a port during their last fuel run (he didn't trust the Light's provided weapons to be free of tracers). Slinking through the hectic corridors, he met Renegade, similarly packed, with whom he shared a nod and a pointed glance. Together, they sought out Tigress.

They came to her door, and found her packing still. One glance at the two and the harried blonde decided she was packed enough, and joined them quickly. The crease between Kaldur's brows softened infinitesimally.

They began to sneak along the hallways, slowly, but surely, and most importantly stealthily making their way to the third closest escape pods to their quarters. Each step drew them closer to open rebellion. Kaldur'ahm had the fleeting thought that they might have to knock out some guards along the way before logic hushed it. All guards would be at their battle stations, as the assassins themselves should have been. It would appear as though they were going to their posts, which was the reason they'd all unanimously decided on this particular batch of escape pods. Now all they had to do was stage a serious accident.

…

M'gann had never been so overwhelmed. Her teammates had all been moving in different directions, and she did her best to disengage the psychic link she had opened. She'd wanted to check in, just in case, but couldn't seem to get a read on any of the original three. M'gann knew they were anxious, could feel the tension in their minds as they raced to- to- to do something. And… they worried for her, she thought. They worried for her and Conner, and she thought she maybe understood why, in the chaos.

If any of them failed, all of them would suffer.

"Uhnf!"

Conner stumbled as the ship received a jolt. Her eyes widened. An impact that big could only mean one thing. Their own ship was under attack.

She levitated him up and forward, flying faster now. They had to get out quick, and let the Justice League find them before they were reclaimed by The Light.

Though she was struggling to close what had been the barest of connections, she could feel the other three teens deciding, as a unit, to run in one direction. Their plan was a little ramshackle, being last minute and all, but it was basically the same. They were running to an escape pod and deploying as quickly as possible.

But- she couldn't tell where, couldn't hear what they were thinking, couldn't see them, and it was seriously worrying her.

M'gann resurfaced to help wrench open the escape doors, then dove back into her work wrangling the mind link.

Ugh. Normally, the links weren't this hard to manage. When their whole team had one agreed purpose, when they had a plan and knew what was going on and everything wasn't falling apart around them the psychic link was almost like a telephone, a solid connection between them, almost mentally tangible. But now, it was so unstable, so… faint. It was almost as though someone was trying to… hijack their-

 _"-Psimon says 'Forget'."_

M'gann couldn't- she- the pain was searing her brain, katchhhhaa Ah'lunzz, she was going to die she should have never snuck aboard her uncle's ship, oh why, oh why, oh why. She felt her arm yanked, and tumbled into the escape pod Conner had been trying to secure for them, their backup plan if the Justice League didn't help them. He wrenched the doors shut, slamming his hand down on the locking mechanism so they'd be ejected from the sub. All was done in the few seconds Conner could resist Psimon, and then the clone fell to his knees, howling as his mind was ravaged. The now oblivious Martian shrunk into a corner, and struggled to recover that of which she had been twice robbed. Conner, however, was gone. All that was left was something that in another universe may have been called 'animal impulse.' As it was, M'gann did not know this raging screamer, and the animalistic alien certainly did not know her. They were in for one hell of an escape.

…

 _~five minutes earlier~_

Renegade paused outside the entrance to their battle station. They had to time it right, so that The Light could at least maybe be fooled and they could get away unfollowed. He rolled the timed explosives so they'd stop just underneath the control panel and dashed in with Artemis and Kaldur. Quickly both pretended to be activating the station, waiting for the explosion to appropriately mask their departure.

Unfortunately, he'd chosen some explosives that were apparently a little too high-grade, as it knocked all three of them over. Kaldur was down and out, but hey, at least they were out of the currently burning room.

"Quick! There was an explosion over there! Check the damage and rescue any survivors," called a familiar voice from down the hall. Batgirl?!

A rapid rapping of feet on the stern flooring ensued, and Kid Flash was by his side. Aw, crap, thought Renegade. The Junior Justice Club.

"Uh," the speedster articulated, and then Artemis knocked him back with a side-kick to the chest.

"Move, before the second wave activates," she shouted to Renegade, frozen in shock.

He turned, helping her yank Kaldur into a pod before triggering a smoke bomb in the approaching Batgirl's face. _Ha_. Finally, he activated all the pods but one, shooting their own pod in a fleet of eleven others, each going a different direction. Hopefully it would provide the cover they needed.

Their departure was preceded by the second wave of explosions Artemis had mentioned.

He hoped the other team hasn't taken too much damage, but oh well. He'd left them an escape pod, anyway so if things really came down to it-

 _"-Psimon says 'Forget'."_

Renegade's head was seared, like Psimon was trying to burn the memories out of his skull. His brain was so totally done, and somewhere in the measly escape pod there was someone, somewhere between two and seven someones screaming, but Renegade's brain hurt too much to care. His mind was scrambled like an egg on a black, non-stick skillet. (His brain was also too busy obsessing over pain to even think about how weird that last comparison was.)

Shattered fragments of light, sound, feeling filtered through his conscious, and he skimmed through a largely abridged version of his life. A dark haired bundle of excitement finally completing his first quadruple-flip, a couple falling from dazzling heights while a child screamed above, a masked mercenary seizing an orphaned freak off the streets. The first memories, the furthest back, cycle through quickly, like flicking through a photo album. The metaphorical pages start to turn slower over time, and he catches longer glimpses: the dark-haired boy whimpered and shrank from a heavy blow unleashed by a furious trainer; a masked apprentice knelt remorseless over the corpse of a mobster; and a stick-thin blonde girl was snatched off the streets, and bowed to the dark-haired boy's master.

By the time Renegade got to Terra, thin and blonde and terrified of the power she couldn't control, the memories almost played out in full.

 _Renegade was certain that by the end of next week, he wouldn't be breathing._

 _Not that Slade had threatened him, or done anything to explicitly suggest that he would die. It was just sort of a feeling he got, sometimes. Slade had been almost decent this week, and Renegade hadn't any more bruises than normal after each of their training sessions. It was like the man was… pleased. And that scares Renegade, because when Slade was amused he usually had some terrible plan about to be put in place, or some great punishment he'd thought out for the next of Renegade's failures._

 _But Slade was spending less time torturing training Renegade, too. He'd been busy, elsewhere, but Renegade knows it wasn't the usual jobs because he usually only takes two of those in a week, tops, unless he's been feeling particularly restive. And it wasn't like Renegade wanted Slade's attention. It was more like… when Slade payed closer attention, Renegade knew what he had to do, what he could get away with, what he would surely be caught for._

 _Renegade is concerned, because the less attention Slade pays now, the more mistakes and punishment would come later. Unless he'd already gone too far, which was worse. Of course, Slade could be hatching a nefarious plot to better train his apprentice, or maybe even seal his doom. Slade could be doing any number of things, and the fact that Renegade can't tell what was seriously distressing him._

 _Slade could kill him at any time, without warning, at any time or place and Renegade could not stop him. There was no way of knowing how, why, or most importantly when, so Renegade had trained himself, had watched till he could pick up any hints Slade dropped. The boy had become secure in these habits; he'd established some guidelines. How to Be the Perfect Apprentice Without Seriously Hurting Anyone, by Renegade. It was almost something like safety. He knew how far he could push on days Slade started with no coffee. On days where Slade's voice was gravel and drumbeats instead of syrup and motor oil, Renegade knew Deathstroke had not quite recovered from the last mission, and was too tired to follow through with threats._

 _Despite all his research, which he'd thought to have prepared him, Renegade had seen nothing like this before. He'd never seen it before and now he was going to die, because Slade was leading him down the steps of the west wing of his Haunt, probably about to test whatever new death contraption he'd created, and Renegade was going to die._

 _So when all his doom and gloom and misgivings culminate to the pale face of a child in their western basement, it's only natural that Renegade doesn't know how to react._

 _"Terra, meet Renegade. You will both be my apprentices," Slade announces._

 _Renegade stares blankly at this new apprentice, this child in front of him. He wants to be angry, to demand to know what Slade thought he was doing. A child. She was probably three or four years younger. But, as he glares back up at his master, he knows he can't. This girl was in it, now, and the only way way he could save her was shield her as much as he could from Slade's wrath._

The memory was slowing, fading, and everything started to blur again, like Renegade was catching up. He catches a shorter one, lives through it in double speed.

 _"What do you mean, you don't have a name?" Terra gasps, eyes wide._

 _"I don't go by that anymore, I mean. We…" Renegade struggles to explain, "We're separate people, before and after Slade, and I don't want that person to be..." tarnished by it all._

 _"But what can I call you?" she asks, because she refuses to believe he isn't a her friend, not when he patches her up and teaches her survival and hides her tears and cleans up her messes and wakes her from bad dreams and holds her while they live through a shared nightmare._

 _"I don't know, Terra," he says._

 _"Renegade. Ren. Wren!" she decides._

 _Wren, he thinks, a bird. He doesn't argue._

It was all slipping away, Renegade realized. He didn't know where it was going, but the twisted rewind was disorienting him enough to believe she was the last thing he'd seen. Soon he'd forget that-

 _"Do it," Renegade heard Slade snarl, as he held the button to a trigger down._

 _Renegade couldn't even remember who the torturous device was meant for, only that both of them screamed. Somebody says, 'okay', and there was a snap and gurgled shout from someone else, and dry heaving. The job was done, but Wren and Terra were broken again, because they couldn't save each other long enough to stay good._

And as the last few memories, of sad and dark, and cold hopelessness rushed through, the gateway of his mind shut, or something, because then she really was the last thing he remembered. Renegade woke up to a hammering on the inside of his skull, and the disjointed sense that he had lost something important.

The assassin's head hurts enough that he doesn't even register the odd blinking light of a tracker on the side of their escape pod. He looks around at an equally confused Tigress, sees a near-robotic Sting Ray, and far too many cubic meters of water, and hopes desperately that Terra is safe.

...

 **Let it be known, that when people ask for reasonable rewrites, I rewrite. I present to you chapter 5, now approximately 800 words longer than it was. Have a good day! :3**


	6. Hostilities and Hospitality

"I will not enter their minds without permission," repeated Martian Manhunter.

Batman frowned. "If what your niece says is true, then they are missing several months worth of information, with possible brain damage. Something needs to be done."

The tall green alien nodded. "This is correct. However, I, a foreign presence, am more likely to worsen their already violated minds than am I to heal. M'gann is a familiar presence, has already regained her memories, and is most suited to this job because it was through her mind connection that the attacks began."

Sighing, the Dark Knight turned his gaze to a security camera focused on two aliens in what was basically nothing more than a reinforced bedroom. The Martian girl sat forlornly on a mattress, with what they had guessed to be Superman's clone sitting before her on the floor. Batman was more disconcerted than he was comfortable with. A rogue clone of Superman and an untrained mindreader were cause enough for concern, let alone ones who had worked for The Light.

"We can trust her," murmured the Martian. "I have examined her mind and her story, and all that was taken from her has been restored. She is in good condition and wishes merely to atone for the crimes she committed while under The Light's influence. Let her try. It will be the first step in the process of repentance."

There was no response from Batman, though M'gann glanced up guiltily at the camera.

"Is there really any point in putting them in there? She can read minds, and he can still hear us," pointed out Black Canary.

The grim mentor did not respond, but M'gann picked up his thoughts anyway.

 _It's a test_ , she informed Conner, who sat on the floor next to her, _He wants to see if we'll do what we're told._

"Well that's great," he muttered moodily. He was still reeling from her recovery of their memories. All of them. She'd shared everything she'd known, from the minute she arrived on the planet to their detainment at Mount Justice. It had taken a day inside her mind-temple to fully process and find all the things Psimon had stolen from her. Conner was just glad he'd been with her, safe from Psimon's mental warfare. He couldn't begin to imagine the damage that would have been done to all the escapees had he been recaptured.

Uncertain, M'gann placed a hand on his forearm. He looked up, and gave her a small grin.

"I'm fine," Conner reassured her. "Do you think you can do it? Restore their memories like you did with mine and yours?"

She frowned a little.

"I can. But… It'll be hard. They don't trust me, and now they don't even know me."

Conner was a little more confident in her abilities, and let her know with a nudge and a slightly wider smile.

"That's good enough for me," he said, and stood.

Facing the camera, the clone knocked forcefully on the wall. "She can do it. She can restore their memories. Hurry up," he told the camera.

Batman grimaced, as Martian Manhunter and Black Canary turned their gazes back toward him. "Well?" prompted Canary.

"Let her try," muttered Batman. "But keep a close eye on her. I want you to know if anything goes wrong."

Dinah smirked, and nodded to J'onn. He released the aliens and phased through two hallways until he was standing in front of them. Nodding once to the clone, he turned to his niece.

"Come, M'gann. You will restore the minds of your friends."

M'gann looked at the tall, green Martian, and felt a well of emotion spring up deep in her heart. Gulping, she tried to come to terms with it. There was sadness, that her stowaway adventure had gone so terribly, guilt at all the sufering she'd caused. Humiliation at being caught, gratitude for the League's help, and for J'onn's guidance, and their willingness to at least let her try to atone… and fear. Fear that she'd never fix everything she'd broken. Fear that she'd irreparably damage the minds of her team, fear that she'd fall victim to Psimon's traps once more, fear that she'd be sent back to Mars, loathed even more for her disgrace and disgraceful nature, but worst of all? Worst was the fear that no matter what she did, she'd never make up for the damage she'd done. Lives had been lost, an evil scheme put into action, and all because she'd snuck away from Mars for her own selfish reasons.

J'onn looked at his niece, drowning in remorse and deathly afraid for the future. He had never met her, this poor White Martian, and grieved for that. The pain she had suffered as an outcast to their kind, the hardships she'd been thrust under after her capture on Earth… His heart was weighed down with guilt itself, for his distance from his Martian family. Now was the time to make amends.

"M'gann, I hope you will forgive me for my neglect, as I shall try to forgive you for your own misdeeds. Earth is very different, young one. You will yet have many opportunities to fix what was hurt. As some say on this planet, 'To err is human, to forgive, divine.' All will be well."

J'onn opened his mind to her, and felt her do the same. Together, they drew strength for the task ahead.

...

"Are you sure- uhnf- that you don't have a thing for her?" Zatanna panted, flinging a handful of Shadow Assassins against a wall. "She really has a thing for you. _Yats ereht!_ " she cried, breathless. The assassins stuck to the red conference room wall, moaning.

"For the last time, I don't care about her. I want her in _prison_ , where she'll stop _harassing_ me. Mph-!" Roy took a kick to the side, catching Cheshire with it at the cost of his own breath. He attempted to throw her, but she was as slippery as an eel in his hands. The archer tried to convince himself it matched her personality.

The magician had no time to respond, cast against the wall as she was. Sportsmaster loomed over her, leering a grin that promised evil things ahead. She opened her mouth but was quickly silenced by a gloved hand. Biting and kicking, she shrieked, seeking at least for Roy's attention.

Roy groaned. He should've brought Barb, or maybe Wally. Powerful as she was, Zatanna was almost useless hand to hand. "Time to end this," he muttered, shooting an explosive arrow close enough to the magician to free her of Sportsmaster's presence, followed by a shot to an airborne Cheshire.

The cat dodged effortlessly and landed, head cocked in mockery. "Missed me," she purred.

Smirking, Roy shook his head. Zatanna cried out, once in pain, and then uttered one final spell. " _Niar dnib swodahs!_ "

Ribbons of blue cascaded from the sprinklers, twisting around hapless assassins. Cheshire flipped backward to a waiting Sportsmaster, and triggered one last explosion to mask their departure.

The archer turned triumphantly, ready to accept his praise- only to see that Zatanna's spell had been too late. A single assassin had escaped, and with Sportsmaster's lance in hand dove at the Rhelasian Peace Summit's ridiculously ornate table. Roy drew an arrow but knew he'd be too late.

Luthor's assistant raised her arm, which then _split into pieces, metal and skin shifting to form_ _ **a laser cannon.**_

The living weapon's boss chuckled, sending him a smug look that would have filled him with rage, had he not already been full of utter bewilderment. She had a laser cannon, his brain was trying to process. Surely that shouldn't be too impossible to grasp. She was Luthor's bodyguard; it had saved the peace summit. _In her arm._ Yeah, no. What?

"-really gives a new meaning to the arms race, doesn't she?" Luthor was saying, to a Rhelasian government on the brink of unity.

"What," croaked Zatanna, hobbling away with Roy's support.

Roy could only shake his head, too tired to even think about it.

…

"So… are you two like, together? 'Cuz I gotta say, if not…" Kid Flash shrugged, eyeing M'gann appreciatively. The Martian did not take heed of his words, preoccupied with restoring Kaldur'ahm's mind. The clone, however, was all too aware, and glared.

"I'll… take that as a yes. No need to laser-eye me there, Supes."

"Really?" Tigress scowled balefully at the red-headed hero.

"Hey. I am allowed to appreciate beauty when I see it," KF shot back. Batgirl sent him a disapproving look.

Renegade had been staring at the ground in front of him for almost an hour now. Well, really he'd been glancing back and forth between the steel flooring and Sting Ray, but that wasn't really of import. He was probably just anxious about his turn, Batgirl assumed. The masked assassin kept a nice little sequence of what he stared at. Floor, fish-boy, floor, closed eyes, floor, fish-boy, floor, Martian, floor, fish-boy… It had all gotten quite monotonous when he finally broke his rotation and looked up at Batgirl.

Wow. The new masks really were expressive. Batgirl got hers from the Bat, who made them himself, so the detective wondered where Deathstroke's apprentice got his. She almost wished they weren't. Aside from her wonderings, she had started to feel slightly uncomfortable under his furtive gaze, so she spoke up.

"What?"

Renegade didn't hesitate. "Have there been any earthquakes recently? I mean, in the past six months?"

"...yeah? There was one pretty bad one just west of Jump City in the beginning of April, and there have been a few since. Why?" Why would an assassin care about tectonic movements enough to ask his captors for a report?

Undeterred by her question, the assassin pushed on. "What about internationally? In Europe? Asia?"

"Uh… there've been a few in Markovia, and countries nearby. Closer to June, I think. But that's basically an earthquake zone, so it's not really significant." Still? What was he looking for? A mission? A signal? How could seismic events even signal anything?

Tigress was starting to take notice, now, and watched her younger teammate with concern out of the corner of her eye. Conner, too, abandoned his watch of M'gann and turned to observe. Even Kid Flash was now paying attention. Batgirl felt things start to spiral out of control.

Renegade seemed to sense this. "One last thing," he promised, throwing her off in his sincerity. "What can you tell me about Tara Markov?"

Narrowing her eyes, Batgirl considered. "What will you tell me if I tell you what I know about Tara Markov?"

"Deathstroke's full name and the location of his base in Jump City." Kid Flash gasped. Now Tigress made a full body turn, and reached a hand out for Renegade's shoulder.

"No, I need to," he told Tigress. "I need to know." His words were desperate, almost... Pleading? She was getting really uncomfortable with his apparent vulnerability, here. He was an assassin, what was wrong with him, was he planning something, oh gosh.

"You first," she asserted. "If your intel checks out, I'll tell you what I can."

Renegade's face fell, and Batgirl felt her heart ache a little for his grief, but she snapped out of it quickly. He should've known she wouldn't give him anything. This was an assassin. She couldn't trust him, because his job was to kill people and he was too good at manipulation for her to lower her guard. Batgirl couldn't afford to be sympathetic right now.

"Get me a pen and paper," he told her, face set with determination. She was so not comfortable with this.

Batgirl glanced at Wally, then turned to comply. She closed the door behind her, pretending to walk further, but waited, poised for ambush. There was no noise inside. She waited there for ten minutes, but no movement happened.

Well, he at least wasn't trying to separate them to escape.

Batgirl sighed, shaking her head, and went to get the darn writing tools.  
...

 **Hey guys! Sorry for the delay, I've been at camp for a while. Actually, I'm about to leave for camp again, so you'll have to wait a maximum of 2.5 weeks for the next chapter. To answer a guest comment, Robert is a name made up for Renegade, because Mindwipe does not know his real name. I was going to explain it in writing, but then I didn't. ( l _ l;) To answer another comment about the exclusion of Captain Marvel: the show excludes him, so I did too (o.O) sorry.**

 **Thank you so much for all the reviews, they really help me keep going. We've reached the point where I no longer have anything pre-written, so now I have to be a semi-competent author and write frequently. I'm trying, but sorry for delays. Please review!**


	7. Leaks and Breaks and Prison, oh my

It was fairly easy, once M'gann had finished restoring the minds of her ex-teammates, for Batman to find something for them to do. Belle Reve, since the capture of all the known ice villains in the world, had concerned the League for the past two months. And the alien couple still required a test of allegiance.

Mindwipe and Redshield were too conspicuous. They'd been seen exiting The Light's ship, and any members of The Light within the prison would mark them for traitors. The League wanted to be careful about the identities of the two aliens.

On the other hand, if the two were taken in as they were, the League wouldn't have to take them down should they turn traitor to them. Inhibited by their collars, they'd be informants only.

When Batman brought this up, he received several glares.

"We're not sending children into a facility with the world's most dangerous villains without powers to protect themselves," contended Diana.

"They're among the world's most dangerous teenagers. It may be a risk we have to take."

"Why not the Terror Twins?" Flash put in.

"They have just as bad a rep, and their collars will still limit Superboy's strength. The Martian's telepathy will be a good line of communication, and can be her backup."

Clark shifted uncomfortably in the background. "I'm not sure this, uh, Super... boy should be trusted. I mean, we don't know the extent of his powers, and we don't know him as well as M'gann."

"We're not sure either of them can be trusted. It's a trust exercise, and while it's risky, it may just tip the scale in our favor. With an organization like the Light lurking, now may be the time to take some measured risks," Arthur, king of Atlantis reminded them.

The meeting proceeded with much like murmuring and dissent, but after an hour of circular debate a vote was called, a decision reached.

…

Around six hours later, Tommy and Tuppence Terror were finally captured and trucked off to Belle Reve.

M'gann's stolen blue eyes glanced down at cuffs meant for someone else, wondering if their plan truly would work. She was hesitant to reach out with her mind. What if the collars could sense someone using another power? Would there be any way to tell? Now was as good as any a time to find out.

Reaching out, she spoke into the mental silence.

 _Conner?_

 _Yeah. Your powers... All there?_

 _Yep. You've still got some too, right?_

 _I think so. Wait a second._

M'gann waited, somewhat anxious as he tested his theory by listening to the guards driving them to their prison.

 _The guards are talking about..._ His eyebrows knit together, _Baseball? Oh. A Justice League hockey dream team, apparently. Wow. They can't remember Kid Flash's name. They're going with Speedy, and now they're arguing over what his name is. Does anyone know the difference?_ He was trying to lighten the mood, she realized. M'gann's tension eased at her boyfriend's surprising sweetness.

 _Perfect_ , she confirmed, and decided to play along. _Oh geez, Red Arrow? Where are they getting these names?_

M'gann suddenly became uncomfortably aware of someone checking her out.

 _Ew_ , she thought, as Icicle Junior began his wooing.

...

"C'mon, Tige, you have to know something."

"I don't. Now drop it."

Artemis was sending him a warning look, but Kaldur wasn't yet, so he hadn't pushed her that far yet.

"So there's no plot."

"Not that I know of."

"Nobody you can remember."

"Nope."

"Not even a good informant you can think of."

"Uh-uh."

Kaldur finally broke his silence, somewhat bemused. "That is untrue."

"Ray..." The ebony-haired girl was growling, true to her assassin name.

"I seem to recall a certain ex-boyfriend who was always-"

"Kaldur."

"-running his mouth. I am sure that if-"

"No!"

"-M'gann and Conner were to befriend him, the plot would be made clear."

Artemis had abandoned her post glaring at Wren, instead glowering at her pretty-much-boyfriend.

"What? I did not give away his identity."

"Conner, huh? Wonder where she got that," Wren wondered aloud, racking his brain for any 'Conner's Mindwipe might have known. Wait. He was supposed to be getting information. He redirected his attention, and started begging some more.

"Just one thing. A name. Just his name, 'Mis. For the aliens." A day after their memories had been restored, the younger teen had asked if the heroes had any way to counter the bio-adhesives Slade had used on his mask. After some hesitation, Martian Manhunter had come up with a way to melt it off, using some sort of Martian biotechnology thing, like he'd seen Mindwipe do with her own clothes. Renegade knew the power of his never-before-seen eyes, and used them well. An innocent puppy dog might sway a defensive tiger.

She sighed. "You are not going to ever mention this to anyone, ever. You will tell them his name and his name only, and you will tell them that when the new uniforms come, with the thermal tech sewn in, the break is coming."

"Thank you," he breathed, hugging both her and Kal.

Artemis groaned. She'd made a mistake.

...

Conner couldn't hear M'gann. They'd made a habit of their link, so that he'd become used to the subtle hum of her mind in the background of things. But he couldn't hear her now, and it scared him because that was only true when she was unconscious or (he didn't want to think 'dead' but there it was, that horrible thought).

He followed Cameron down the hall, toward the women's wing, and thought. It was strange to walk so freely in the midst of a prison break. Upright, in front of all the cameras, passing guard posts with no concern. They had just passed Waller's office when he had the thought. If M'gann was down, their cover was probably compromised. He couldn't rescue her if he had to fight every con in Belle Reve, and that would utterly destroy their disguise. But most the cons were already wearing collars, and all he needed was one good diversion.

He stopped the other teen with a hand to his shoulder.

"Junior, listen. I just got me a warning from Tup. Collars are turning back on in the women's wing, could happen this side any minute," he lied.

"Oh, man. We better tell dad!" Junior was all too willing to believe, and too ready to go running back to his father.

"Or you could show some initiative," he suggested, praying the other guy was arrogant enough to buy it.

Judging by his victorious smirk, Icicle Junior had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

...

This was how M'gann found herself kneeling in shards of ice while a blonde Kryptonian clone kissed her over the ruins of the Belle Reve escape attempt.

"Do you think we made it?" she asked.

"After what we just did, they'd better. I don't know how much more they'd expect. I'd say we can consider ourselves trusted," he paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "-Miss Martian."

M'gann's face lifted, a green smile making its appearance for the first time since they'd started the mission. With cameras down and the ice-freak out for the count, there was no reason she absolutely had to maintain her diguise.

"That's a great name. You thought about something for yourself?"

Blue eyes were bashfully averted before the clone spoke up. "I mean, Big Blue isn't happy about it, but I have heard the name 'Superboy' being thrown around. I don't know for sure, but… it feels right."

The Martian's eyes softened. "Hmm… Superboy and Miss Martian. It does feel right."

Icicle Junior would have been glad he was knocked out had he been aware of the fact; the alien couple's next embrace would have melted even his icy demeanor. Superboy and Miss Martian awaited backup in the throes of success.

…

Artemis was very distraught. "You don't understand, Wren! It's not about me, it's not about the friggin' Justice League, it's about The Light! I've seen their plans-"

"-so you know enough to stop them!" Wren cut her off, but his tone was more pleading than assertive. She kept steamrolling through.

"No! I don't know enough to stop them! I don't think they can be stopped. You haven't seen them like I have, Wren. There's nobody, no person, no power strong enough to- to stop what they have planned for this world."

"The League could do it, they've done so many times before! Come on, I'm begging you. Just look what they did with Belle Reve! With just your information, Redshield and Mindwipe were able to take down the most ingenious escape attempt in history."

"That was in a prison, where everybody had collars to keep the playing field even. That's not what it'll be like in the real-"

"Then even the playing field out! Tell them what they're up against, so they can beat The Light. Please, 'Mis. We can't go back, there's nothing for us there, it's too late to back out now."

It was too late to go anywhere, thought Kaldur grimly.

"Renegade! Each time we help The League we get a little deeper into trouble. When they catch up to us- and they will- they'll kill us, because we weren't on their side!"

Forward there was uncertainty, mistrust, and potential for backsliding anyway. His choice on the sub had been spurred on by the urgency of the situation, could he really trust his decision? Their last minute plan had landed them on the shore of Mount Justice, right in the hands of the Justice League. The heroes had too much control over their fate for any of the trio to be comfortable.

"They'll kill us anyway! Please, we can't go back, you know we can't go back!"

Backward there'd be pain, as always there was, but their punishment would be so much harsher. Treason was not something to be taken lightly, no pun intended. The reason The Light was so successful was because of its loyal following. Without loyalty and discipline, there was no hierarchy, no chain of command, and no coordination between villains. It had been a work in progress for several years, but the general idea was that if the Justice League's organization worked to synchronize the efforts of "do-gooders" worldwide, The Light too, could succeed, finally securing a world people of power would thrive on.

Kaldur had once thought he could survive The Light's world, humble but confident in his abilities. Artemis' terror was persuading him otherwise. The others looked to him for guidance, but how could he steer a sinking boat to land when every shore was rocky and rife with danger?

Deep in thought, the Atlantean resurfaced from his own contemplation at the others' slightly raised voices. Up until now they had maintained furious whispers, not wanting to attract the attention of the League. Tensions had risen, and the pair's voices with it.

"Artemis, please. We can't go back. The League can help us! If you could just tell them-"

"The League? The Justice League? Why do you believe in them so much? What have they ever done for you? Where was The League when Kaldur was nearly murdered in that hospital as a toddler? Where was The League when your parents fell to their deaths in Gotham? Where was The League when my mother disappeared from prison and my sister was taken for the Shadows? If they're so all-powerful and righteous, where have they been our whole lives?"

Wren had fallen silent, chastened, stung by Artemis' words. They were true, and to be considered, but harsh.

"I'm not giving The League anything until they prove they can have my back."

…

 **Alright! Hey, guys, sorry for the wait, there might be another one for the next chapter. Last chapter it was pointed out to me in a review that I skimmed over the actual escape from the Light. Which is true to an extent, I think, so I'm going to try to fix that. It'll be up soonish, maybe before I post the next chapter, so if the last update date changes but there's no new chapter, that's probably why. I'm on vacations and whatnot, which is why schedules are crazy but there's also the fact that MY COUSIN IS GETTING MARRIED AHHHH. So. See you all later, have a wonderful day!**


	8. No Place Like the Homefront

" _Artemis_." Wren breathed through the semi-darkness. It was late, and lights were dimmed to allow the mercenaries to sleep, supposedly. Their guards had just left to meet an arrival, and they were to be left relatively alone for the rest of the night.

"We're going," she told him, equally quiet. He already knew they were leaving the League's prison for them, because he'd stopped them on the way to the door. What she really meant was ' _Come with us._ '

"'Mis, please."

"I'm not trading one prison for another." The archer paused, looking back to Kaldur, who met her gaze steadily. At least she had Kaldur.

"The League will-"

"No," she hissed. "Haven't you learned anything? In this world, it's every one for themselves." She surprised herself when her eyes didn't burn, when her voice didn't falter. She surprised herself when she believed it, that lesson Jade Cheshire had taught her the night she'd disappeared.

"Come," she pleaded with Renegade.

When she'd first seen his eyes, they'd been the pale, hesitant blue of the sky after a storm, hopeful and bright. It had been her first sign that he had no intention of leaving the League's grasp. Now, in the dimly lit mockery of a penitentiary the League held them in, his gaze was darker, a gray-blue steel. Tigress turned, giving up on him, then her leg flashed out quick, striking him in the temple. The boy dropped, right into Kaldur's waiting arms. Together, they lay him on the bed. His precious heroes couldn't blame him for their escape, him being knocked out.

Tigress turned, leading her companion to the adjoining room, a restroom. It was small, a tiled closet barely suitable for one person to do their business and clean up, but it gave just enough room for their escape. Kaldur braced himself against one wall, and kicked clean through its parallel. Continuous kicking lead them into another bathroom, attached to another bedroom. This one was empty, but she knew the next one wasn't. Three days of careful listening and observation gave her a rough map of this hallway, and she knew enough to tell her that Kid Flash's temporary room was next.

The door to this bedroom was unlocked, and Artemis and Kaldur slid from wall to wall down the hallway until they encountered a control panel. The archer used what basic hacking skills she'd gleaned from watching Renegade work to bring up a map. Artemis was apprehensive, it was too easy! Surely some sort of alarm should have gone off, from the moment they'd kicked the wall in, but there was only silence.

According to the holographic layout, the League's equivalent of an armory was one hallway to the left, and three doors down, so they darted in and out, grabbing what supplies they could. There was a gun full of tranqs, which both mercenaries looked at questioningly before Kaldur shrugged and loaded it. Some smoke bombs, which were undoubtedly Batgirl's (they were little grey balls with tiny bat logos on them, funnily enough). They both decided to grab some batarangs, though neither was an expert at handheld projectiles, they were useful enough. Artemis found herself a little disappointed, honestly. These weren't even the powered ones. There was even a med kit, which she grabbed.

Just as they turned to dart out the door, she saw it. A bow, deep crimson, slightly too big for her but just her specialty, and it was all too perfect. Kaldur gave her a boost, wordlessly, and she grabbed it and the matching quiver.

"Hello, _beautiful_ ," she told it, and then Batgirl fell out of the ceiling and the room filled with flames.

The redhead was wide-eyed, cowl in disarray and cape singed. She rolled out of the way of another gust of fire, and raced toward the rapidly retreating refugees.

"How did you get out?!" she yelled, over the whooshing fiery doom.

"Who the heck is that?!" Artemis yelled back.

Batgirl decided to be the bigger person, apparently, and answered a helpful "I don't know, but its friend just took Mindwipe, Redshield and Renegade."

The archer's stomach dropped.

"What?" Kaldur croaked beside her. _Oh no_. Oh no, no, no.

"They attacked the cave, this one's got fire and the other has water. Comm is down, and they've got my team and yours trapped," Batgirl informed them, mouth moving faster than they could bear to comprehend. "Truce to save our friends," she told them, and Artemis wanted to kick her back down the hallway but she was right. They'd left Renegade vulnerable, and they _wouldn_ 't abandon him or the aliens to a certain doom.

A tornado of fire followed them as they followed her dark cape through a gym to some showers. The trio split, twisting them on, and the blaze died down behind them.

The floor shook, and Artemis' heart stuttered.

"Wait, didn't you say one of them had water pow-"

Nearly simultaneously, all the nobs and showerheads in the room fell off as the water burst from the very pipes. The water rose too quickly, and Artemis wanted to scream at the unfairness. She could see that the rest of the locker room was dry, the water stopped right at the door, because of course! Naturally, the dry area was blocked off by a swirling column of flame.

Batgirl whipped out something and stuck it on the wall, then kicked backward. The wall exploded, and water gushed out, depositing them into an empty hallway. Barbara beckoned them into a kitchen, then up into the vents, following the lead of a holographic map.

There were footsteps, and a spurt of flame, but they were already two turns away. The redhead lead them to an engine room, then stopped.

"Crap, _crap_ where's the access tunnel I can't find it on the map," she rambled, skidding to a stop just before a fireball incinerated her. Artemis shot an arrow in that general direction, because she couldn't see through the smoke. This whole ordeal would seem a lot more like a trap, fabricated to convince the mercenaries to stay if the retaliatory fireball hadn't almost burnt her hair.

Kaldur got only a fleeting glance of the map, yet somehow managed to yank both girls out of the way of another blast and toward a grate. Throwing the metal trapdoor to the side, the Atlantean jumped in, followed shortly by the others. Oh, she loved this man.

Barbara pulled up a holographic map, and a separate keyboard and screen.

"This is the hangar, this is where we are, find the fastest route while I block sensors," she ordered them. Kaldur traced a path across the blue while Batgirl typed away furiously.

"Okay, that's all I can do. Let's move."

They crawled along the vents at a pace that makes Artemis itch, but they were silent when they dropped down into the library. Again, they chased Batgirl's dark cape which Artemis was starting to realize actually had a tint of purple in its inky darkness.

"From the hangar, we'll pick up more firepower and signal for help," Batgirl explained as they ran.

Just like last time, however, they heard footsteps and were forced to hide. Artemis drew her stolen bow, ready to take aim while Batgirl stood poised with a batarang.

"Batgirl," it called, in a robotic voice.

"Red Tornado?" Batgirl muttered, behind the shelf. Unfortunately, her murmur gave away their position, just as another red being entered the room which, Artemis realized with horror, was completely flammable. The nearest robot reached for them and Kaldur pulled Batgirl out of the way, boosting Artemis onto the shelves. Batgirl flipped, and Kaldur jumped, then they all leap out of the way as the more feminine robot sets the shelves ablaze.

They're at the wall, nowhere to run, when the shelves started toppling like dominoes. The Bat's sidekick shoved her off and tugged on a book, and the shelf slid down, granting them access to a secret hallway.

"That's cheesy," mumbled Artemis. Batgirl giggled somewhat hysterically.

Bolting down yet another hallway, they paused when a robotic voice projected itself over the base's speakers.

 _"Attention Batgirl, attention Tigress, attention Sting Ray. You have exactly ten minutes to surrender, or the lives of your teammates will be extinguished."_

The three exchanged a wordless glance that held the appropriate degree of terror, then they continued.

…

Roy glared up at the flaming robot when it approached his fiery cage. The Martian had passed out already, but he was still awake to struggle through the heat. The robot appeared to survey him, then increased the intensity of the flames. As a courtesy, he pulled the unconscious girl away from the now even hotter wall of fire. It felt like the walls were closing in, and the heat was becoming more and more unbearable...

Oh, he needed Batgirl to be alright.

He cast a desperate glance to his teammate below, or where he knew Wally was, behind the stone stairs. The clone, Wally, and Zatanna had all been imprisoned somehow there. He couldn't see, and the agony of not knowing killed him, but at least Wally could talk to him. According to the speedster, they were encased in some sort of metal-rock-thing. Zatanna was out, and gagged, and too far away to help. Wally couldn't vibrate his molecules out, and the Kryptonian couldn't break through.

The Kryptonian could, however, badger him with questions about his girlfriend. "How is she?"

"She's out, there's nothing I can do," repeated Roy. He wanted to be exasperated, he really did, but with Zatanna out the way she was, Wally unseen, and Batgirl out of touch he could, funnily enough, sympathize. The archer tried to be as civil as possible.

"Look out!" Renegade's shout startled him, and he looked to dodge, but saw nothing. Wait-! Somewhere below, there was splashing. The fire-bot was shooting something, at a someone he would bet his life had red hair and bad taste in music.

"I'm almost out of arrows," said a less familiar voice. Ugh, the other archer.

"Distract them!" Batgirl replied, and Roy could have cried in relief. There was the clanking of batarangs and -were those his arrows?- on the surface of the bots, then a huge crash. A 'whoa!' from Wally, followed by two splashes, and then silence again. The flame-thrower turned around, raising the temperature of Roy's cage again, and Roy finally passed out.

...

"Oh my gosh," repeated Batgirl, for likely the tenth time. She appeared to be hyperventilating. "We'll never make it to the hangar." She continued crawling along the vent.

"What now?" asked Artemis. She glanced toward Kaldur.

"We must save them," offered Kaldur noncommittally.

" _How?_ " she pressed, angry with his shutoff. "They're unrelenting machines, Ray, now can you give me an _actual_ plan?"

Batgirl stopped suddenly, and Kaldur ran into her. "Machines," she repeated. " _Machines_ …"

She pulled up a screen on her wrist and pressed a button somewhere around her ear.

"KF, how do I make an EMP emitter?"

…

They're down to four minutes, and they only had to cross a room where the enemy is currently guarding their teammates with fire and water, plug in a homemade EMP emitter and set it off, all without being noticed. Then they could 'call it quits' as Renegade would say, Kaldur thought.

Batgirl cradled the device and pointed to the generator.

"Distraction now, KF."

"Hey, red tomato! Who's your girlfriend, Red Onion?" The speedster's insult would be more entertaining if Kaldur wasn't sure they'd be caught.

"A-and! You call this a death trap? I call it a- a vacation. You think we're even threatened by you? We can escape any time we want."

For a weapon with no formal training in social interaction, Conner had picked up the intricacies of distracting an enemy with insults well. It was unlikely to be enough, nonetheless.

"Cover me," Batgirl whispered, then took off, ziplining to the generator. Artemis drew her bow (with her last arrow, which made his stomach churn), and Kaldur the remaining batarangs and smokebombs. Kaldur watched as the Bat's apprentice inserted the device and pulled up a holo-screen. She seemed frantic.

"The circuit's incomplete! I need something conductible," she muttered. But if Kaldur could hear it from here, the robots certainly could.

Before their metallic heads even turned, Kaldur threw smokebombs and a few batarangs, a distraction. He leapt just a little closer, close enough to actually engage the machines of destruction, and continued his spout of smoke bombs.

Within the bog of grey-black smoke, something glowed orange, and then the cloud was ablaze, burning away too quickly to maintain cover. Kaldur was out of smokebombs, and sacrificed his last batarang in an attempt to take out the pyro-bot. The silvery slicer glanced harmlessly off the blood-red steel, and the half-Atlantean met a face full of fire.

…

" _Kal!_ " Artemis screeched, completely blowing her cover, but the bots were preoccupied. A typhoon swept Barbara away from her task, trapping her in a column of water. The two robots turned, but the lone mercenary had already fled the scene.

"No, no no no no _no_ …" chanted Artemis. There was nothing she could do. There was no way she could beat them on her own. She crawled mindlessly down the hallway. Kaldur was dead or dying, Renegade was trapped, and everyone in that room was going to die if she couldn't do something in the next three minutes. The League couldn't help them, not in the next three minutes. The Light couldn't even touch them here, though they doubtless knew where she was, they could not and would not help the mercenaries out of this.

She was out of arrows, out of time, out of luck.

And! And the worst thing. The worst thing was, she didn't even have to save them. She'd said before, believed before 'It's everyone for themselves' but the truth was she didn't want to leave them she couldn't leave Wren to the killers. She couldn't abandon Kaldur, not when there was still a chance he could survive, not when there was still a chance they could make it through together. She couldn't abandon the boys, the people she loved.

Artemis missed the next handhold, finding herself tumbling down the chute before dropping through a vent in the ceiling of another room, like Batgirl had earlier. The archer rose, considering her options.

Turn herself in, and she'd die.

Hide, and they'd die.

Fight?

There was no definite answer.

Artemis groaned, looking up, and then she realized- she was in the armory. The armory, which had exactly one more arrow. It was a souvenir from a long time ago (only two months, she knows), when she'd still believed there was a chance for her somewhere, to escape, to be free. When the mercenaries' job had been to capture Selena Gonzalez, AKA Tatsu Yamashiro AKA Katana, when she'd purposely missed and disrupted the entire mission, and blamed the clone on the way home. She didn't know how they'd found it, or why they'd kept it. But there it was, hanging in a case above some body armor.

It was unpowered, but as with all her unpowered weapons, its tip was metal, sharp, and hooked.

Artemis had her plan.

…

"I surrender. Stop the clock," said Tigress, somewhere high above Wren, likely standing on the great stone tableau that his captors had been patrolling. His head snapped up, and he strained to hear, even as the water swelled forbodingly.

Artemis was all he'd had left.

He hadn't known, at first, that she and Kal were still here, waking up with a headache and almost completely encased in metal. Renegade had resigned himself to the fact that he was depending on the last member of the Junior Justice Club to rescue their sorry butts. All until he'd seen them pop out of the water, and that fireball, he'd given up on the possibility of their rescue. But then… he'd been counting on her, praying she'd make it through.

And now she was giving up.

The water was at his chin and rising quicker still, so Renegade gasped a last breath and struggled to keep his head up. Water filled his ears, but it had not yet claimed his sight. Something flashed across, from the platform to the wide cylindrical structure that Batgirl had been captured on, and then a ripple of blue pulsed out from the arrow's contact point.

Tide retreating, the mercenary breathed greedily, suddenly appreciating how wonderful free air was. Two metallic clanks he heard told Renegade all he needed to know about the fate of the robots. He grinned. She _had_ come through, after all.

"Speedy! You good, man?" shouted the yellow speedster on his right.

"Yeah. Martian's breathing fine," the archer informed Conner, quite considerately. "Batgirl-!"

There was a sputter, and a gasp. So the redhead was fine, too. But what about Kal? He'd heard Artemis scream for him, he knew something must have happened. Renegade wasn't sure about calling, considering their last interaction before this mess she knocked him out, so he listened close instead.

His muscles tensed, breath caught and heartbeat skipped, when he heard a hitching, hiccuping, gasping voice sob " _Kaldur_ …"

 _No!_ Not this, never this, no _Kaldur couldn't be-!_

"I need help," cries Artemis, voice cracking. "He needs help, he's not _breathing_ somebody-!"

A whirring from some distant, irrelevant corner began and ended. "What has occurred?" said another robotic voice, and Renegade tensed up just out of habit.

"Your family attacked," spat Batgirl. "And now Sting Ray is dying."

Another whir, another landing, and Wren hoped to heaven Red Tornado would be able to save him. There was a strange sparking sound, and the trapped boy suddenly found himself wondering how long electromagnetic pulses last, exactly. All of a sudden a great gust of wind blew- no, sucked, stealing the very air from his lungs and he couldn't breathe-!

Renegade blacked out for the second time in two hours.

...

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